A Bird Caught In A Guilt-laced Cage
by Swords Divine Light
Summary: As the slow realization sinks in to Claire's very core, the bird caught in her chest struggles to break free of the Guilt-laced cage she has built around it. She only hopes Barry can forgive her, because she can't even forgive herself.
1. Chapter 1

The first thing she is aware of when she wakes up, if _even brief_, is that there's a swift motion under her, and what feels like thunder drumming in her ears. Blinding white lights in flashes, and she maybe wonders if she hasn't finally died to bioterrorism.

_But she rations 'not' with a hazy mind, because the pain in her ribs is throbbing and she feels like utter shit._

Then there's Barry, the concerned man that just wants his daughter back, and as her heart threatens to burst out of her chest in a _few million glass pieces_, never to be repaired, she's already blinked out of consciousness and her eyes are rolling back into her head as they burst through doors.

_Her last thought, is that she's guiltily relieved when she blacks out again._

_Because in her nightmares, everyone is still alive, and her mate is not yet broken. _

xXxXx

When she wakes again, she recognizes the sterile white walls of what can only be a quarantine ward room.

_The smell of antiseptic burns her nose, but it is preferable to rotting flesh and her own blood._

_At least that is what she thinks at first._

_Soon it will only add to her own personal mental hell._

She is stuck in the room for a few weeks she assumes. She's been in the same process before.

_Her mind travels back to Steve, and guilt washes over her in a curtain._

_How many have sacrificed or died for Claire Redfield?_

Sickness bubbles as bile in her throat.

_Regardless of any number- too many._

She wonders if it was worth it.

_She doubts it._

xXxXx

Week one passed with rest and the uncomfortable itch of scratchy linens against sensitive, still raw flesh. It is nothing compared to what she's personally seen- personally inflicted, but it keeps her rooted and anxious as the adrenaline fades from her recovering system.

Bruised ribs- bruised everything, and how many little tiny cuts and scratches unrelated to being mauled by undead.

_Oh, and a concussion._

_She's gained a few more bite-shaped scars._

She does not think of Moira.

_That's what she tells herself._

But when she drifts off, troubled but exhausted and no longer able to ignore the burn of her eyes, the one person that's always concurrent- always there, seems to be the younger girl brandishing her crowbar and flashlight.

She _misses _her.

She is not sure she can make that claim.

_Because Barry misses her too._

And does she truly have a reason to miss her? An appropriate one?

She does, but she does not have the heart to think of it now.

xXxXx

_In week two she realizes she is afraid to talk to Barry._

_Petrified actually._

_Because she promised to protect Moira, and look what fucking happened._

Death must hang over her with a twisted, sick pleasure- watching, waiting to see who to take next.

_She wonders if it's a Redfield curse._

She can't face him- won't be able to. The guilt eats at her while she personally refuses to.

_She wishes she died on that island._

_Because if she traded places with Moira-_

She tries not to dwell on it.

xXxXx

Week three of quarantine is the final week, but she suspects she will be held over for other things in another ward.

_Psychoanalysis. _

_She knows they've monitored her. Suicide Watch, due to the instability of her own mind at present. And two, because she's rarely eaten, and when she has it's been scraps to keep herself alive and nothing more._

_And the hallucinations- she tries to remember those._

She has not looked in the mirror- she does not _have _one.

So she doesn't break it and try to kill herself with the shards.

_She guesses that it's common._

_She is grateful._

_Because she's sure she's lost weight and looks like utter shit._

_She imagines Moira telling her that she looks like shit too. A snarky comment or two, and then Moira's gone in the puff of debris of Claire's mental state as it crashes down on top of her. _

Ironic.

_Really._

xXxXx

Her first visitor out of quarantine is Chris.

_He brings Jill._

She is tired, exhausted, speaks, but is not aware of much other than the need for autopilot to respond to the other two in her room.

Chris smiles occasionally.

Jill tries to.

_It does not reach either of their eyes._

He mentions Claire is starting therapy in the next week- that Leon gives his regards as well.

_Claire offers no response._

xXxXx

Barry visits her next.

She just about vomits when she sees him.

_But there's little in her stomach._

He does not ask about Moira.

_She is far from relieved._

She wants to tell him everything.

But she's afraid her voice is lost.

_Somewhere on that island, it's fluttering like a bird locked in a cage- but the cage is made of rubble, and the bird inside is surely dead._

xXxXx

Therapy is draining- taxing- she hates it.

They start by asking about how she felt.

She tells them.

That is not the problem.

_However, she is far from immediately compliant._

She's been trapped in _shitholes_ like that before, and although anxiety washes over her in a familiar blanket, it was nothing she hadn't done before.

The therapist- some woman in her forties maybe, jots down notes.

She's blonde- that sickening blonde of Alex Wesker, and as the woman finishes, she is glad to leave.

_She exits- swift in her retreat._

_Because homicidal thoughts have rushed to the surface and she wants to bring Alex back from whatever layer of hell she's trapped on just so she can send her back in a bloody pulp. _

She thinks Moira would have liked to help.

xXxXx

The second day of therapy, and she asks about coworkers- relationships.

_Claire took it the wrong way._

She snaps, raving on about how Neil was a backstabbing dick, and everyone _died_ because of _him._

_Everyone but one._

_Because she feels a personal responsibility._

And then Claire breaks down- breaks a stupid vase that's on the coffee table between them.

_It's fragments fall similar to how she feels she has._

The therapist holds her hands up to the guards with sedatives.

_They set themselves back into place._

A minute of silent staring and Claire is reduced to near sobs and finally speaks.

_She does not cry._

_She cannot._

Her voice cracks, but she mentions killing Pedro's mutated, disgusting form.

_Putting him out of his misery like a dog._

_Gina is dead before she can even help her._

Gabe dies in the helicopter crash.

_She hopes he did not mutate too._

And then there's Neil...

The woman hides her disgust well, Claire muses later.

_Because she goes into vivid, gruesome detail about Uroboros. _

_And how she enjoyed, with a murderous lust, gutting him like the fucking worm that he was for nearly killing Moira the first time._

The woman writes something down. She believes she knows what it is without asking.

xXxXx

She is informed that Barry and Chris are being slowly educated with everything she confesses.

_She does not care._

She signed off on papers long ago for her brother to be privy of such information regarding her health.

_Likewise his health to her._

She knows Barry does not have direct access to her files-

That Chris is likely leaking information to him though, is another story.

_She does not care._

_She just wishes she could tell him herself._

_She's faced so many horrors- yet she does not think she has the guts._

_She can't admit what Moira meant- especially not to him._

xXxXx

The woman eases her nerves as best as any therapist really can.

_At least instead of the jagged edges of herself cutting into her flesh, she is finally numb about the ordeal, and possibly even recovering._

Until Moira is brought up.

_She cracks again, one piece in particular stabbing her heart and she just about gasps when the crack is felt rippling through her torso._

The woman presses.

Claire grinds her teeth and bites her lip until she taste's blood.

She watches the other woman's eye track something, her eyes lowering until it stops on the tickling sensation at her chin.

_She wipes the blood from her face before it drips, staining the sleeve of a white uniform._

One more push...

_And Claire confesses everything regarding Moira within the hours prior to being crushed under a heap of rubble._

_Claire protected her, and in turn, the girl watched her back as best as she could._

She mentioned once that Moira reminded her of herself when she was nineteen and had to deal with finding her brother.

_Except she never wanted for Moira to be dragged into anything like that. _

_Help Terrasave? Yes._

_Get killed? No._

The woman says they'll finish tomorrow.

Claire realizes her exhaustion- how long she rambled on about what happened, and when she's taken back to her room, she falls asleep without dreams or nightmares.

_She is dimly aware of being upset by that._

xXxXx

A weird question. She wonders what to say to it- because Barry will see the report, and she's not sure she wants to admit to it quite yet and further break his trust.

_The woman writes down that she is anxious when her relationship with 'Moira Burton' is questioned._

A shaky breath. White knuckles holding onto the dark oak of the chair she's sat in for two weeks worth of sessions.

_She asks for clarification on the woman's meaning behind "Relationship"._

The woman speaks.

"What was it to the two of you?"

She swallows, her throat dry, and clears her throat.

"I-.. we.." She stops, tries again, stronger this time, and is aware that Barry might as well kill Claire Redfield himself.

_She wouldn't put up a fight._

"Some... things happened. In that hell hole. We'd find little areas that were defendable. Running water and everything that wasn't contaminated. _Food._ Canned or old, but it was edible and we survived."

_A pause._

"That leaves much to elaborate on, Ms. Redfield. I'd appreciate if you would continue."

Her nails dig into what is likely dark oak- she believes expensive and tries to ease the pressure before she damages the chair.

_She begins. Her knee bobbing with nerves._

_She mentions finding a room once- surprised by the sight of a couch and so grateful for the chance to rest._

_Moira is happy, in an exhausted way, and they take the small victory they can afford._

_Claire is skeptic at first, but Moira persuades her to rest with her, and they sit on opposite ends of the small furniture piece and just... recharge._

_It is silent, until Moira is at her side, nudging her hip with a guilty, hard look in her eyes._

_"Claire?"_

_She turns, opening the eyes she wasn't aware had fallen shut, and momentarily forgets their place._

_"Yeah?"_

_She is unaware of how it happens, but Moira is suddenly closer and kissing her then, soft and slow, and the sliding of her lips against Claire's own leave her dazed and confused, and she doesn't dare push her away as her heartbeat is lulled into a relaxed rhythm._

_"We could die here... but I.." She stops. _

_ Claire lets her think._

_"I know I'm younger- but... I care about you- a lot." Her eyes have drifted down to where she's gripped the older woman's hand, and Claire offers her a squeeze to finish. Inviting her to speak._

_Moira does not, but as her honey eyes raise to look into Claire own blue-grey irises, desperately searching..._

_The meaning is clear. _

_She accepts._

_She does not feel guilt, only about as blissful as she can in the current situation, anxiety clawing her suddenly as she realizes that she needs to get Moira home for someone other than just Barry. _

_If they make it out alive, she will explain. She will show how much Moira means to her. She will prove she'll take care of her, and hope, that Barry will understand._

Even now- Claire Redfield does not regret the few hours spent in Moira's arms, and is certain, Moira would not regret them either.

She does not know how she feels about Chris relaying this to Barry.

_She accepts that he will find out, and feels indifferent._

xXxXx

In the last therapy session, the woman questions what happened at the end.

_Claire has practically shown this woman her soul over the entirety of a month in the form of broken, bloody pieces._

She tries to put them back together.

_But there is nothing to make them stick._

Claire tells her anyway.

Her gaze darkens- nails digging into her arms as she hisses.

_"We found Alex. She killed herself. The building went into a self-destruct- and we scaled the side of the fucking building. "_

The woman waits before she jots anything down.

_"We nearly fell off once- maybe twice. Who cares- we almost got out of the damn place, and part of the upper floor collapsed." _

Claire fidgets, voice raising in volume until she's barking out words.

_"The pieces- they'd have FUCKING CRUSHED ME. They SHOULD have crushed ME. But no, Moira she- she fucking saw it as it fell- she looked up and I was too busy staring at the damn hole in the wall we could get out from."_

Her words turn to snarls and venom, and it's obvious to anyone that self-hatred and rage is running through Claire's veins in boiling pulses.

_She is surprised her skin does not bubble from the heat._

_"So she pushed me out of the way. I hit my head- got disoriented, and was across a ledge that even if I tried harder, I wouldn't have made it back. She sacrificed herself for me- and I don't even DESERVE it."_

Her gaze locks eye contact with the other woman's, and it remains there so that she understands completely.

_"I made sure her sacrifice wasn't in vain. But if I could change anything? I'd make sure I was trapped in the rubble. I'd rather die, over and over and over, so long as she could live."_

Claire Redfield sits down, opens the cage in her chest, and is unsurprised when the bird inside cannot fly with broken wings.

_She remains indifferent._

xXxXx

After a month, she is released from evaluations. Medications prescribed- and the order for two weeks off work.

She crumples the paper- goes back to work immediately, and upon realizing she's the new boss of the local Terrasave office, throws herself into work.

She doesn't hear from Barry or Chris for two weeks until short calls are left in her voicemail.

Mostly Chris, a few Barry, and two from Jill.

_She rarely receives them. She doesn't understand them._

_She's losing herself back on that island- and hands come to choke the crippled bird in her chest._

xXxXx

The fourth month proves drastic- she believes she's healing, but one mention of a memorial for those killed in the "incident" by a higher-up leaves her breathless and choking on her own blood as her heart breaks again and cuts her with every inhale.

_At least it feels that way._

So she drowns herself in the half-bottle of whiskey in her apartment. She's not often one to drink- never really was.

_She only even has it for when Chris and friends visit._

_A drunken mistake- and she's listening to the voice mails piling in her inbox while sitting on her bathroom rug._

Chris mentions the medicine she never picked up- it's an old message. _Really old._

Followed by inquiries on her personal health that never got answered.

Jill is the follow-up, asking if Claire is alright because she hasn't responded to Chris and they're progressively getting more and more worried.

_She threatens to drop in, but who fucking knows how old that message is too._

_Besides, they never did._

She doesn't bother to look at the date- and it scrolls to the next, the one Barry sent, and her stomach plummets.

It says he wants to talk- to understand what happened- he wants answers and clues and to search for Moira.

When he says, "_It's not your fault._" the whiskey comes back up burning and fighting and she can only just manage to lean over the toilet rim to hurl liquid fire from her stomach in time.

She clings there for a moment- two- three- grounding herself before heavy foot falls meet her ears and she manages to look up through bleary eye-sight to find her brother's silhouette. Jill is likely with him, as usual.

_She forgets how to breathe when Barry is suddenly visible, and she's almost too aware that she passes out afterwards, hating herself all the while._

xXxXx

_She's back to the dull white walls of the hospital again. _

Examined and almost treated for possible alcohol poisoning.

_She's just a lightweight, that's why she never tries to drink._

She stirs, tries to get comfortable, and her eyes burn when she blinks them open to find Chris tucked away in the corner, trying to sleep in the most uncomfortable chair imaginable.

Her stomach knots, and she sinks back in to the stiff mattress.

_She pulls the covers to her chin, enveloping herself in the familiar itchiness._

_And finally cries._

It is silent at first, before it's punctuated by little hiccups. Her eyes squeeze shut as she hisses for breath between quiet gasps and she's genuinely startled when a hand is placed on the top of her head.

As she starts to choke, she knows it's Barry, so when she's gathered into a hug and he murmurs something she can't quite hear, she can only sob harder and cling to him in silent apology.

_Because he's just as cracked as she is._

xXxXx

She tells him everything.

_He listens, nods, and she can see him planning._

He confesses that he's been looking for Moira since they two of them were reported missing.

_She agrees to help._

xXxXx

Month five passes by in a haze. Claire devotes part of Terrasave to finding Moira, and other resources to smaller incidents.

She and Barry use every free minute to search for the island.

She does not expect to find Moira alive- but she would be at peace if she could properly lay her to rest.

_Make sure she hasn't mutated._

_And take care of her if she has._

_She owes her that much at least._

xXxXx

Two weeks in and Barry disappears.

_She waits for his signal._

xXxXx

One week passes- Barry radios in.

Co-ordinates are given.

_Claire readies the 'cavalry'._

xXxXx

At about month six, Claire finds herself in a helicopter above unfamiliar seas.

They close in on the target- and for once she is glad for her timing.

She grabs her sniper, zooms in on the specks running to the cliff edge, and upon realizing that one of them is Barry, that girl from before, and _Moira, _the bird in her chest goes wild at the potential to feel its mate again.

Her heart hammers, and the screech of Alex Wesker threatens to burst her ear drums.

The sight of Moira and recoil of her sniper rifle lulls her into an automatic rhythm that she is more than familiar with.

xXxXx

When they are finally on the helicopter, Claire can only then sigh in a sort of relief, finally allowing hope to flourish beneath her breast as her bird flies wild and free and finally content.

_Moira tries to hide it, but she holds Claire's hand out of sight of her father._

Claire should tell her he knows, but she's too overwhelmed by the fact that Moira is actually _there_, and she has the chance to spend a lifetime with her if she wishes.

_She is beyond bliss._

_The cage loosens._

xXxXx

_Her bird's mate flutters in to greet her, and when Moira is finally out of quarantine with her, she allows the two of them to finally kiss again, and she is grateful it is not the last._

_Barry spots them from a distance, Natalia riding on his shoulders as he means to take her home as the new familial addition. _

_Claire finally cries joyful tears, and when Moira stops to ask her what's wrong, she only has one response to offer her._

_"The cage is gone."_

_Moira gives her a funny look, placing her hand on her forehead to check for fever. Claire just smiles, leaning in to kiss her again._

_"You'll understand soon enough." _

_And for now, Claire contents herself with that._

_Because the cage is finally gone, and her bird belts its song just for Moira._


	2. Chapter 2

AN: This is by all means an optional chapter that focuses on how Jill might have reacted too all of the stuff going on with Claire. Written as a thanks to a really nice reviewer on A03 who really wanted some interaction and support between the two, so here it is. I'll respond to replies in a bit, but I've been slightly busy as of yet and haven't had the chance, so I apologize for that. (I wanted to get this out for them sooner rather than later though.)

xXxXx

When she hears of Claire's release from quarantine, she is asked to go visit by a slightly disheveled Chris Redfield.

She does not understand _why_ per se, because she had intended to visit all along.

_Because as far as she's concerned, Chris is basically family._

_And if Chris is family, surely his younger sibling Claire is definitely family as well._

However when she visits the poor woman trapped in the psychiatric ward of the hospital, she does not expect to see her normally vibrant eyes so lifeless and hollow.

_Like someone who'd lost a dear lover._

_And suddenly Jill wants answers to what really happened._

She has also never seen Chris flinch, _but there's a first for everything._

Chris moves forward, masking his hesitation with a slow stride.

"Claire, how do you feel?"

Claire jumps, only seeming to realize that they are standing there after a few dull moments of staring out of a dirty hospital window at the small specks below bustling about with their daily lives.

She seems tired. Then again, Jill knows that post-bioterrorism events are always worse than the actual experience a quarter of the time, and assumes that with a veteran survivor such as Claire- that is likely the case.

_But her hollowed eyes speak volumes of another story entirely. _

_The slow conversation is tense- Claire is reluctant to speak, and she and Chris have nothing to say, and dare not apologize when they are unaware of the problem. _

However, when they move to leave, she is a few steps behind Chris as she moves towards Claire, taking her hand and giving it a small _squeeze _in an affirmation of support.

_Jill will help her as she can._

_Claire looks at her with widening eyes._

xXxXx

The next time she manages to visit Claire Redfield, it is roughly a week later.

_She looks worse, if possible, but is coherent and tries to manage a tired conversation._

Claire seems surprised again, slightly. But her almost shockingly friendly attitude is just under the surface and she at least _tries._

Jill can ask no more.

But it is obvious that she is still mentally ill- and Jill is perhaps just as worried as Chris.

Because while Claire would normally be recovering, she is instead declining slowly and while Chris might be keeping her in the dark, she is unaware of the reason why entirely.

When they part, Jill squeezes her hand again- asks if Claire wants or needs anything, and upon being politely declined of her offer, heads out reluctantly.

She is stopped by Claire's voice- light and almost missed.

_"Why did you stop by...?"_

Jill turns, her smile just a twitch of her lip as it curled, but it is sincere all the same.

_"We're family, right?"_

_Claire later tells Jill Valentine that she is a woman full of surprises._

xXxXx

Upon passing what is most likely Chris and Barry in the office, she overhears the subtle voices talking- well, about as subtle as a truck ramming into the side of the office when Chris must tell him a relatively important piece of information, because he shouts in surprise and even she reacts and jumps almost violently at the outburst.

_"What!?"_

_"Shush, listen-"_

And then they are back to near-silence.

_Jill does not admit eavesdropping._

She does admit to bullying the elder Redfield until his gaze drops and he finally tells her everything.

The whole spiel about mutants and viruses and zombies does not surprise her by any means.

_The part about Moira leaves her a bit dazed, but it explains the rather blank look in her eyes and the root of the problem._

Her stomach drops, because that leaves two people destroyed over the loss of one individual for fairly similar reasons.

_She hopes Barry doesn't mention it- the romantic involvement that is- until Claire is clearly ready._

_Because she is afraid Claire is sitting on the edge of a cliff, and if he is against it, she'll fall off with a gentle breeze and no means of stopping her descent. _

_xXxXx_

Chris says Claire hasn't been returning calls for a few weeks now.

At first, he states, he gave her space. It was necessary in his eyes, and she just needed to get into the pace of regular life.

When they both find out she never even picked up the anti-depressants, they suddenly decide an intervention of sorts may be in order.

_Jill calls, but she doubts Claire will respond if she even hears it._

_Jill also just about punches Chris for being so dense, and forces him to go visit his sister before something drastic happens._

_She may or may not also bully him into taking her along. _

_He acquiesces._

_Barry is about to knock on the office door as they leave- and they take him along anyway because why the fuck not?_

_They all need to talk about this anyway._

_It's been put off for much too long._

_xXxXx_

She stays rooted in the living room and waits for Chris to find Claire.

Barry follows loosely- but the immediate halt of the two of them leaves her suddenly anxious.

She paces over- realizing Claire is on the verge of passing out with a near empty bottle of whiskey and then begins barking orders.

Chris goes to ready the car, and Barry is to open the doors for her.

_Jill manages to carry her out with a sickening ease, and it is apparent that Claire has eaten little and run herself into exhaustion because she's lighter than any grown woman should be, and the shivers running up her spine threaten to paralyze Jill with a dull sense of fear._

_She seems feverishly hot, yet there is a sheen of sweat across her forehead that is disgustingly clammy and cool to the touch._

_Jill holds her steady in her arms the entire way to the hospital, and can only watch as she's taken away on a stretcher for the second time in barely four months. _

_She personally feels ill to her own stomach._

_xXxXx_

The silence of the waiting room reigns over her and Barry.

_Chris has gone to oversee paperwork._

_She begins._

_"Barry. You need to talk to her."_

_Her looks her way, a damaged look hidden behind years of experience._

_"She needs your support." _

_He looks to his boots, about to speak when Jill cuts him off._

_"She loved her too, Barry..."_

_He nods, stands, and goes to find Chris._

_Jill remains seated and thinking for a short while later._

_xXxXx_

She merely means to tell them she's going home for the night, and will be back in the morning, but is stopped by the sight from the doorway.

_They clutch to each other and though Barry tries to hide it he is crying and Claire is openly sobbing in violent, heart-tearing wrenches. _

_Jill tries not the think that this is perhaps the first time she has allowed herself to properly mourn._

_Because that would have admitted defeat and that perhaps this wasn't just a bad nightmare and Moira would come back, safe and alive._

Jill turns on her heel, and walks back down the hallway.

Playing the supportive puppet master is sometimes more exhausting and harder than it looks.

xXxXx

She means to visit Claire the next morning- and she does.

She brings flowers, but Claire is still asleep and she does not wish to wake her in what seems to be the most rest she's gotten in a _long time_.

_She places them on the window sill next to the bed, and leaves with a silent regard._

_xXxXx_

Claire throws herself into helping Barry for two months, and Jill does her best to not disturb her- even stopping Chris from doing anything other than making sure Claire is alright.

_She is finally being pulled back in the right directions with invisible strings._

_xXxXx_

_When Chris tells her that Moira is back, and although in quarantine for the next three weeks with Barry and Natalia, she is more than slightly relieved._

_Claire comes to talk to her sometime in the midst of the three weeks that everyone is stuck in the quarantine ward._

_It starts with a knock on her apartment door, and Claire stands there fidgeting but with a happy demeanor meant to fall upon her face as it always has._

_"I know it was you." Jill quirks her head, plays innocent._

_"Chris is good at his job, sure- but a bit too dense to deal with social problems on his own sometimes- even you know that."_

Jill can't hold back the smirk that splits her lips in a toothy grin.

_"Okay, so maybe you caught me."_

_Claire smiles, pulls Jill into a hug, and sighs._

_"Thanks, Jill."_

_"We're family, right? It only makes sense."_

_Jill pulls her in to talk then, because the Redfields and Valentines are damn well an extended, but closely weaved family. _

_With the addition of the Burtons she supposes, too._

_One giant, idiotic, zombie-killing family._

_(Zombies aside.)_

_Jill wouldn't have it any other way._


End file.
